


dei otiosi

by solitariusvirtus



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dubious Morality, Early Modern Era, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Moral Ambiguity, Strangers to Lovers, repost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-02 12:56:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5249027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solitariusvirtus/pseuds/solitariusvirtus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An unexpected visit makes Lyanna Stark reflect upon a decision she had taken more than a decade ago. Sometimes that which others would call a mistake, is a blessing in disguise. One just needs to pay close attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	dei otiosi

 

 

 

 

 

The sound of gleeful laughter momentarily distracted Lyanna from her task. She looked up from the wreath of blue and white roses and watched Jon chase Lynarra around the tall oak tree in the middle of the garden. A smile touched her lips at the cheery sight. "Slow down," she yelled after them nonetheless, fearing ripped hose and skinned knees.

A squeal of delight came from her daughter as both she and her brother ran from the bushes, the house dog chasing them. Shaking her head lightly Lyanna returned to her work. Her gaze found the blue roses first. It was somewhat silly, but the flower itself had sentimental value. Lyanna liked all flowers, of course, peonies, carnations, daffodils and so many others. But the blue rose was her flower in a way none of the others were.

One of those rare shadows of regret passed on her face. Half repressed memories probed at the weakened defences of her mind. Lyanna shut the lid on them. She set her chin stubbornly and shook away anything that might bring tears of lament to her eyes. She had a task before her and she would complete it.

"There," she said, twining the last of the thin branches and tying them together securely. She held up the little crown for inspection. It was pretty. Pleased with her work Lyanna stood up and looked after the children. "Lynarra, come see what I have for you. You too, Jon!"

Brother and sister emerged from their latest hiding spot and scampered down the hill, hand in hand, Lyanna's pet bounding happily after them. Their excited faces glowed in anticipation and Lyanna could not help the soft smile that spread on her lips. The twins stopped just short of crashing into her and glanced at the presents she spoke of.

"Ladies first," Jon said in a manner that suggested both politeness and eagerness. The faster his sister got her present, the faster he would get his. He gave his sister a half smile and sketched her a bow. Lynarra clapped her hands in agreement and nodded enthusiastically.

From behind her Lyanna held out a small bow. It was clearly made for a child. Gently curving and prettily decorated, it suggested more the taste of a girl with the flowers engraved on it. "Your uncle Ned sent it for you all the way from Essos," Lyanna told her daughter before depositing the present into her awaiting hands. The girl all but jumped up and down. "And this is from me," she continued, placing the fragrant crown of flowers on her daughter's head.

"Thank you, mama!" was the reply she got for her efforts, along with a tight hug. "I'll treasure them. I will. And we'll find someone to teach me how to shoot, won't we?"

"Of course," the mother agreed. "Now it's your brother's turn." She gently pried away Lynarra's arms from around her middle. She gave him a thin foil with an interestingly shaped pommel. It looked almost like the head of a wolf. "Your uncle tells me he has also arranged for a master of the art to come and teach you. Later you can go practice in town." She handed him the gift.

Jon took it from her hand reverently. He studied the details of the pommel with such attention that Lyanna could tell he was enchanted with his gift. She then gave him her own present. "You'll need this." The protective mask was soon in her son's grasp, as was Lyanna herself.

She laughed and bent down to better reach their faces. On one knee, she hugged her children close and kisses their rosy cheeks. "Happy nameday, my darlings. I cannot believe you are thirteen already."

"Is Aunt Cat going to come visit us this evening? With Robb and Sansa?" Lynarra questioned, curiosity shining in her eyes. They were very fond of their aunt and whenever she happened by their day was just a little brighter. Especially when she brought her children with her. "Sansa said she would show me how to do my stitches like hers. They were really pretty, weren't they, mama?"

"Very pretty," Lyanna agreed absently. "Your aunt is bringing Bran, Arya and Rickon too. So, I'm certain you kids will find something to do in order to keep busy."

"And Uncle Brandon, is he coming?" Jon followed with his own query.

"That I do not know," Lyanna answered honestly. Despite the fact that they had five children and more than a decade of marriage between them, her oldest brother and his wife were not particularly close. Nor did they try to bridge the gap between them. As far as Lyanna could tell, they were perfectly content to be strangers that shared a house. "Maybe he will. Why are you asking?"

Jon shrugged. "He promised to tell me about the war." Then her son smiled. "When I'm old enough, I'll enter the army and become a general. The greatest general that the Seven Kingdoms ever had."

Patting his wild curls gently, Lyanna laughed softly. "A general, is that so? And will you take me and your sister to those wonderful balls you'll be invited to?"

"Oh, but I'm dreadful at dancing!" Lynarra complained before her brother could answer. "I'll trip and embarrass myself. It will be dreadful!"

"That's a long time off," Jon attempted to calm her. "You'll learn how to dance until then. Mama will teach you. Won't you, mama?"

"With pleasure." Out of her two children, Jon showed more of her adeptness at dancing then his sister. Lynarra wasn't exactly a poor dancer, but she was nowhere near as graceful as herself and Jon. Still, what skill did not give her could be masked with practice. "All you need is a little confidence, my sweet princess. Here let me demonstrate."

Lyanna took her daughter's hands in her own and led her into a popular country dance. Jon, not pleased to be left out, joined them. They twirled around in circles, laughing. Somehow, they did manage to finish the dance, without Lynarra tripping or Jon stepping on anyone's feet.

They were interrupted however, when one of the maids came running down the stairs. "Someone is here looking to speak to you, Miss," she announced as Lyanna bade her children to return to their play.

The floorboards creaked under Lyanna's light footsteps as she followed the maid that had come with the summon. She still could not believe her ears. It seemed that her mind was quite incapable of wrapping itself around what she'd been told.

"Are you certain the man said that?" she asked once again hoping against hope that the answer would be different. "Perhaps you have misheard him."

"He was quite clear, Miss," the maid said in an apologetic manner. Lyanna bit her lip in frustration. Of all the rotten luck. "He said loud and clear that his name was Oberyn Martell."

"And he did not say why he wished to speak to me?" she tried for more information.

"Not a word other than that it was of some import," was all the reply she got for her efforts.

And it seemed that the gods were unwilling for Lyanna to know more than that. For some reason Oberyn Martell had seen fir to intrude on her life. Lyanna was aghast at his impertinence and she would let him know that as soon as she set eyes on him. How dare he disturb her quiet life? She would throw him out on his ear.

Lyanna entered the room where her guests had been allowed to wait for her arrival. Tea had been served, as was customary. Had her current company been any other man than Oberyn Martell, Lyanna would have been amiable and pleasant. As it was she barely restrained a growl at the sight of him. The fact that he'd brought his paramour only served to further aggravate her.

"Lyanna Stark," he greeted her in that overly familiar manner that was quintessential Oberyn. He rose from his seat, the woman on his arm remaining seated. "I am glad to find you at home."

"I am not," she replied tersely. Her eyes fell on the other woman in the room. "You must be Ellaria Sand." Lyanna nodded her greeting to her. With Ellaria she had no quarrel, thus she could afford to be civil on that account.

"You have heard of me," Ellaria noted softly in a slightly accented voice, "I hope they were all good things. I would hate to make a bad impression."

Finding that she could do naught but smile, Lyanna agreed silently. "I am very curious at to why you have arrived at my door." She willed them to state their business and be done with it. Their very presence vexed her beyond belief. "Today is an important day for my family, you see, and we are expecting guests."

"The nameday of the twins," Oberyn said, startling Lyanna. She had never told him about their nameday. "The hospital kept records," he clarified. Lyanna's expression must have darkened some for Oberys hurriedly added, "I found that when I was searching for an address."

"And you would have done well to forget it," she snapped. Indeed, she would have been much more pleased by that. "Is that why you came? Because you knew it was today?"

"Not at all." He looked back to Ellaria and she nodded her head slowly. "I wish to speak to you."

Lyanna took a seat and invited Oberyn to do the same. "I cannot say I return the sentiment, but since you are here say what you have to say and be done with it. I haven't all day."

He took a sip of his tea, then placed the cup back on its initial place on the table. Oberyn proceeded to search his pockets until he found a small, rectangular piece of paper. Lyanna watched him pull it out. He held it out to her between two fingers.

"I have come to bring you this." He waited patiently for her to reach for the paper. Lyanna was in two minds about that. What did she care about any message he would have for her? Yet she was curious. Giving in, she stretched and wrapped her fingers around it. Oberyn allowed the paper to slip in her care.

Opening it of paper, Lyanna was struck by the content taking form before her eyes. "What is the meaning of this?" she demanded in a frail, breathless voice. "Why would you bring this to me?"

"Because regardless of what you may think about me, I am not a heartless monster," he said quietly. "And you deserve to know this."

"I thought you wanted me to stay away from him, that you would not accept for him to have a paramour." Something ugly sparkled in her eyes.

"It was never about him having a lover," Oberyn protested.

"Of course it wasn't," Lyanna replied sharply. She could see Ellaria making a grab for Oberyn's arm. "It was not that he had a lover, just that the he in question was your sister's husband. Because if you protested to the idea of a lover, you would be a hypocrite." She eyed Ellaria pointedly then. "After all, you yourself keep a lover.

"She was my sister," Oberyn ground out. "I would have done anything to protect her. And if I had to make that choice again, I would still choose this path."

"I'm sure you would," she agreed with him. Despite her own pain, Lyanna did understand. No brother would sit by and let a cherished sister suffer. Her brothers too had tried to comfort and protect her, each to their ability. She looked down at the paper again. "I am sorry for your loss," Lyanna finally managed.

She was still not sure why he had come to tell her that Elia Martell was no longer of the living. And she would not ask. If he wanted to tell her anything else he was free to do so. Lyanna would not push for more.

But Oberyn had nothing else to say. He and Ellaria left Lyanna in the room with the tea and the books on the shelf. She was left to her own thought and memories which did not hesitate to make their way to the front of her mind.

It had been more than a decade ago, yet she could remember every detail with so much clarity. It was all vividly playing out in her mind. Lyanna leaned back against the chair and drummed her finger on the armrest. So very clear, indeed.

 

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

  
_"Lyanna, slow down!" Rickard ordered his only daughter as the girl ran down the hall. "You won't see one present if you cannot behave," he warned when Lyanna giggled his command away. Alas there was nothing to be done. The girl was much too excited. He sighed and returned to his newspaper._

_Meanwhile, Lyanna was already up on deck, taking in the salty air. Out of all the nameday presents she had received, this was the absolute best. Holding with both hands onto the railing, she hoisted herself off the ground and leaned slightly forward to look at the sparkling water._

_"You shouldn't lean over so," an unknown voice startled her out of her reverie. Lyanna looked around, her eyes landing on a young man standing at a small distance away from her. "Unless you're a good swimmer, of course. In that case lean as further over the railing as you wish."_

_She laughed. It wasn't even that funny. "I'm passable," was all she said to his warning. She needn't have concerned herself anyway as there were quite a number of people on deck. If she did manage to somehow fall over and into the water, she was certain someone would devise a way to bring her back on board._

_He tutted at her softly. "I'm afraid that won't do. Miss, I must ask that you come down right this instant."_

_Still, he was smiling at her and Lyanna could not take offence at his words or at his manner. He was clearly well intentioned, so she decided to humour him and step back down. Her decision, of course, had nothing to do with the fact that the water was probably freezing cold and falling in would only earn her a persistent cough along with a runny nose. Lyanna did not fancy falling ill. Both her feet touched the ground at the same time._

_"May I know the name of my knight, so I can address proper thanks?" she asked, cheek-in-tongue. He was a handsome fellow, she decided upon further analysing his features. As knights went, she could have done a lot worse._

_The man shook his head in what looked to be disbelief. "Rhaegar Targaryen at your service, Miss." The name sounded familiar. The Targaryens were a powerful family to Lyanna's knowledge. He sketched her a bow, a favour which she returned with a well practiced curtsy. He looked at her expectantly._

_Lyanna thought to challenge him at first. But really, he had been kind enough to give her his name without a fuss. She could do the same. "I am Lyanna Stark." She held out her hand. But to her surprise, instead of shaking it, like most other people would do, he bent over it instead. Lyanna's heart skipped a beat at the gesture._

_"We might as well play the roles until the end," he said after, standing straight. He was quite tall. "Well, Miss Stark, what brings you here?"_

_"The sea," Lyanna answered. "And you, Mr Targaryen?"_

_"Please, call me Rhaegar. Mr Targaryen, well, that's my father actually." He laughed quietly. There was something inviting about him. Lyanna was not sure what though, yet she allowed herself to relax in his presence. "I fear my reason is no other but business."_

_She hadn't expected that. He was certainly older than her, but a businessman she hadn't pictured him as. Lyanna nodded her head in understanding, all the while wondering if it would be rude to ask exactly what his business entailed. She would get to do no such thing however. And really, it seemed very unimportant as far as Lyanna was concerned. She pushed all thoughts of business away._

_"If I can address you with such familiarity, it would be only fair to return the favour. I suppose you may call me Lyanna," she offered graciously._

_"How kind of you," he said in a dry manner which Lyanna took as a sign of amusement. She released the smile she had been holding on to. He replied in kind. "Where are you headed?" he asked conversationally as he led them both to a couple of unoccupied chairs._

_"To King's Landing, like most every else." She wondered if he was to depart before then. The ship would, indeed, stop at some other harbours along the way._

_"That's fortunate. Perhaps we'll meet there as well." The words, uncertain as they were, made Lyanna impossibly happy. "That is if you would like to."_

_"I don't know. It is not exactly a small place, is it?" Lyanna twirled the ring on her finger absently. "Do you enjoy the opera? I heard that King's Landing had one of the best opera houses in all the Seven Kingdoms."_

_"Volantis boasts better singers though. Have you ever been to Essos?" Lyanna shook her head. Men usually did not present very much interest to Lyanna. They were not the enigma some of her friends made them out to be. Lyanna attributed that in part to growing up with three brothers, and then to her own nature. But this was different. She could not quite put her finger on it, but as Rhaegar told her about Volantis and some other Essosi cities she found herself charmed, fascinated even._

_"Now you've made me curious. My father won't thank you, for I won't stop until I've visited Volantis," she laughed freely. Rickard Stark, her dear father, much preferred staying at home. Lyanna had a little bit of curiosity in her though. Her brothers had been allowed to tour the old continent, but Lyanna had not been old enough at that time, not did the family have the necessary funds to send her as well._

_Rhaegar adopted a contrite expression. "I shall have to apologise to him in person in that case."_

_It was the perfect opportunity. And Lyanna seized it without a thought to anything else. At least the rest of her journey could be spent in companionable conversation with a cultured young man. Her father would likely discuss politics with him too. It was perfect. The gods were smiling down upon her._

_Lyanna insisted that, indeed, he would have to speak to her father; there was no escaping that duty. And so it was that Rhaegar Targaryen made his first appearance in Lyanna Stark's life, when she had just turned sixteen a couple of months previously._

 

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

 

_What was love? Lyanna had never given much thought to that particular question. Oh, she had spent some time thinking up romantic scenarios, like most girls her age did, but she had never seriously considered what love meant and what consequences a romantic entanglement brought with it. Her encounter with a special man made her reconsider that policy._

_That the man who stole her heart was none other than Rhaegar Targaryen – but one could not rightly call it stealing as Lyanna had had no objection to giving him said heart – was not so much a surprise as it was a pity. He was a cultured young man, handsome and witty and he liked to spend his time with Lyanna, much to her delight. They got along splendidly and there was a sort of natural affinity between them which would not be ignored._

_It came as a shock when she found out that the very men she had set her heart on was not only married, but also had a daughter. Her dreams had taken a strong blow and for quite some time she had refused to exchange more than a few polite lines with the man. Was it childish of her? Perhaps. And he may have been undeserving of her ire, but she felt what she felt and made no apology for it._

_Her injured heart bleeding, Lyanna promised to herself she would forget him and have grand adventure after grand adventure in the famed city of King's Landing. She would not mope and she would not cry silently into her pillow – though she did those enough on the ship. No, Lyanna was determined that she would not waste a moment of her precious time on a man who could never be hers. Once the ache in her heart softened, she would be able to look upon their meeting with pleasure and a hint of disappointment at such a promising acquaintance being cut short. But she would make do._

_"You will like the opera," her father said, tucking her hand in his elbow gently. "We were lucky to find places. Look at this crush."_

_It was an absolute crush, Lyanna decided. And they were fortunate to have found an empty lodge. Though Rhaegar was the cause of her fervent desire to hear and see the show enacted on the opera stage, Lyanna would not curtail her own pleasure; just like one did not cut of their nose to spite the face. She would enjoy her outing and compliment her father for his efforts._

_"Are you sure we are going the right way, papa?" She asked, after they'd passed a small cherub statue, staring insolently down the ladies' dresses from his vantage point on the ceiling. She was very certain they had passed it once before._

_"Oh, don't worry so." He led her to couple of wooden doors with shiny handles. They were not locked and Lyanna entered her first, choosing a seat that pleased her. "The view is spectacular."_

_To tell him that the stage was not quite that high would have been rude. Lyanna chose to hide a smile and allow him further perusal of other occupants in the theatre. Well, the stage was unoccupied and that did leave them quite some time to look around._

_Lifting the opera glasses that had been recently gifted to her, she looked trough them with the enthusiasm often exhibited by children who'd had a tad too much sugar. Her father was quite obvious to that though for he had seen a widow Lyanna remembered he was fond of. She shook her head lightly and tried not to be discomforted. Her mother had died many years ago, she couldn't begrudge her father a few moments of happiness._

_However, her joy and elation at the new experience vanished the moment her eyes made contact with a sitting lodge opposite hers. Her eyes widened and her jaw went slack. It was unbelievable, the epitome of bad luck. Frustration crawled inside of her making her stomach grow tight. It was not fair; it was the furthest from fair as it could get._

_Opposite her was none other than the man she had been trying to erase from her thoughts. Rhaegar Targaryen had seen her as well for he stared at her both hopeful and unsure. Lyanna considered turning her head away and pretending she hadn't noticed him. But she could not do that. It would have been abominably rude._

_Instead of doing as she desired, Lyanna nodded at him. He nodded back, offering an unsure smile. Lyanna did not hold hers back on account of a bruised heart._

_"Isn't that the Targaryen lad?" her father asked from right next to her, giving Lyanna a start. She had forgotten all about her father the moment her gaze met Rhaegar's._

_"Yes, I believe it is." And then she looked away. Steeling herself against temptation, Lyanna kept her eyes firmly on the stage. It was almost time for the show to begin._

_The lights were no longer as strong as they'd been when Lyanna and her father arrived. And for the next couple of hours, Lyanna refused to be pulled away from the singers on stage. It was not quite what she had expected. There had been some shows in Winterfell but they could not compare. Ned would have enjoyed it too had he been there with her. But thoughts of her brother put her ill at ease. There was something wrong with him and she could not figure out what, and it was not her place anyway. If Ned wanted her help, he would tell her._

_The end came inevitably. Lyanna clapped and clapped in a show of appreciation for the efforts of the singers. She would have to come more often to the opera. Her father went out before her, presumably in search of that respectable widow he was such good friends with. Lyanna had no trouble finding the vehicle to take her home. Her father, she realised, had expected to meet that woman for he had instructed her on how to get home if he could not accompany her._

_But every ounce of luck had run out. As soon as she stepped out the door, she nearly crashed into one Rhaegar Targaryen. She froze just as his hand came under her elbow to offer her stability._

 

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

 

_In retrospect Lyanna should have known that a heart once lost was forever gone. She had read those dime novels with their impossible tales. She knew that it was often in the direst of circumstances that one realised the worth of what they'd given away. And while there were certainly worse situations than hers, all facts conspired to open her eyes to the true nature of her attachment to Rhaegar Targaryen._

_She had tried avoiding him, she had, but they moved in close social circles; they met at events and such. She could not possibly pass him by and not greet him._

_Yet everything had changed since that tentative beginning on the ship. Lyanna did see Rhaegar alone most of the time. However, every now and then, he was joined by an elegant woman, tall and slender with an undeniable beauty to her features. That was his wife, she understood well enough._

_"Her name is Elia Martell," Cersei told Lyanna as they strolled through the park. "It is an unfortunate pair, to tell you the truth, but which one of us is allowed to marry who we would wish?" Not the greatest friend Lyanna had ever possessed, Cersei Baratheon, formerly Lannister, was a bit bitter towards life and decidedly unpleasant to those she thought beneath her. However, given that they were close in age and Lyanna's father had introduced them, Lyanna did not deny herself an occasional strolling companion._

_As for the unfortunate quality of Rhaegar's marriage, she decided not to pay it much mind. It was no business of her if Rhaegar was happy or not. Lyanna determined that even her stubborn heart would have to give up the craving and grieving at some point, she just had to wait for the time to come. "Oh, Cersei, perhaps you are mistaken," she said in the end._

_The blonde shook her head emphatically. "If I'm wrong then Robert is in love with me," she drawled, circling her arm through Lyanna's. "You listen to me and listen well; that marriage is falling apart."_

_Whatever Cersei knew and Lyanna didn't, the brunette did not dare ask. "If you say so," Lyanna gave in with a shrug. She then changed the subject._

_When one's object of affection was impossible to ever hold on to, but more than that, cruelly dangled in front of one's eyes, the chances were pretty high for a disaster. Lyanna would not term her falling into sin a true disaster, of course, not in the sense that disasters were responsible for hurting a multitude of people. Had it been her chief concern to bring injury to a perfectly happy couple, she would have deserved every indignant look levelled her way much later. Had she been bent on destroying the lifework of two people, she should have felt ashamed herself. But Lyanna had simply loved. That had been all. Elia and her daughter figured only as an afterthought in the embroilment, at its centre was Rhaegar. And she would not apologise for her own feelings, nor would she attempt to justify her actions. They were what they were, what everyone else had figured out, and she would not hide behind her fingers in an attempt to fool the world._

_When it became clear to her that Rhaegar, not unlike her, suffered under some bewitchment of the heart and he too wished for another reality in which they could have been together, she allowed something she would not have otherwise._

_"I can never give you more than this," Rhaegar had told her as they walked together on the balcony. That particular night, when she had made her proposition to him, Elia had not joined him. Had she been there, Lyanna was not certain she would have had enough courage to attempt it. "You put yourself at risk."_

_"But you would accept," she insisted despite his best attempts at dissuading her. "I am not asking you for anything but to love me. I will not demand that you leave your wife and I won't attempt to take you away from your family," Lyanna whispered. She would have only half of him at best, but she was willing to live with that. She could no more rationalise her heart than she could tell the skies to stop raining._

_Lyanna loved Rhaegar and she wanted him in whatever way she could have him. And so began what was termed by most polite society an extramarital affair. Lyanna simply named it being in love and living the feeling. She had known even at that time that such behaviour was frowned upon. Society had its rules, written in stone. Those who flaunted their disobedience of them would find themselves cast out._

_She and Rhaegar had been very careful though. Their meetings were kept at a bare minimum which tormented Lyanna to the depths of her soul. She saw him only very rarely in an intimate manner and her attempts to balance her countenance whenever in his presence must have been successful, at least at the begging. Her father had not suspected a thing, neither had Cersei – and that said very much; Cersei knew everyone's business before they were even about it._

_Yet misfortune must befall every human being at least once. To Lyanna it happened the moment she woke with an unset stomach. She was rarely in such moods and the sudden manner in which her affliction cropped up was worrisome. At first she blamed it on an autumn chill. But tea and syrups did nothing to improve her._

_Even without a mother to instruct her upon such matters, Lyanna was not completely without an idea of what the result of her dalliances with Rhaegar could be. She had monitored her monthly flow, and she had been fairly certain of the safety of engaging in a physical relationship when she had done it. Alas, she had been proven wrong._

_It came to her then that a decision had to be made. She could go on and pretend ignorance on the matter at hand, allow the child to take root inside of her and grow. It would shame her and her family in the eyes of society. Or she could visit a surgeon, someone discreet, and ask to have the pregnancy terminated._

_The choice rested within her hands and subsequent occurrences became a decisive factor._

 

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

 

_Head bent over the tome resting in her lap, Lyanna studiously ignored the sound of a plate hitting the table. She closed herself off to the sound of her father cursing and tried to figure out just what the heroine of the novel was thinking. Really, all that hard work had more or less gone to waste. She should have made up her mind about her employer by that particular point in the book. Lyanna rolled her eyes. But she did understand the girl's dilemma on the other hand._

_"Are you not going to eat, Lya?" Rickard addressed her directly, his voice commanding her attention. He stood before her, eyes analysing her coldly. Her confused expression did not help her cause. "What is this about?"_

_"It's a bit of a complicated story, but if I had to sum it up I would say it is about a simple girl who manages to transform her rakish employer through her kindness." She nodded as if to emphasise what she had said. Of course, after years of living with the man, she knew that was not the answer he had been expecting of her. "In short, anyway. I could be persuaded to give you a full account, father, if you find it that interesting."_

_"Do not," Rickard warned, stepping closer to her. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "I am not a fool, Lyanna. I am the father of four children, and I kept company with your mother throughout all of her pregnancies. Do not think you may trick me."_

_A grimace crossed her features. "If you already know the state of affairs, what need is there for my explaining it any further?" She placed the book next to her gingerly, forgetting to mark the page she was on. Such a detail escaped her and would continue to do so until she had had the time to calm herself. "What do you think you know, father?"_

_Rickard sat down next to her. "You are young, my daughter, and in love. No, do not deny it," he hurried to say when Lyanna opened her mouth. "You are in love."_

_"You know me so well." It was said without an ounce of sarcasm. Her father did read her well, after all. "But father, I never meant-"_

_"Hush." He gave her a long, searching look. "You have no mother to have explained to you the dangers of those feelings you bear. For that I blame myself. Had I taken the time to find another wife after your mother's death, you might not be in this situation now."_

_"No," Lyanna protested. "This is not you fault. What I did, I did knowingly. There was no confusion in my mind, father. I will not allow this to be labelled a mistake." Tears burned at the corner of her eyes. It was the perfect excuse, that she had been seduced, that it was no fault of hers, as she had been tricked. Well, she hadn't been the case. "I was a willing participant."_

_"What did he promise you, Lyanna?" her father visibly forced himself to ask. "I suppose he said he would leave his wife for you. The man has a family, Lyanna. He has a responsibility towards them. Did you expect he would close his eyes to that and choose you over them?"_

_"This is not about a choice." The words came quietly, but no less assured than her father's. "I never asked him for anything but what I knew he would be willing to give me. It is not the position of wife I covet," she explained, feeling helpless and lost. "I wanted his love. And that I took from no one. Love is given, not taken; it does not need reason, but a matching of hearts and sensibilities."_

_Her father sighed. "Naïve child." His voice held an edge that implied pity. Lyanna disliked it. "Well, at least you know not to demand the impossible. But that still leaves us in quite a predicament, Lyanna. Your beloved seems to have left you with a little bit more than just his heart."_

_"That was why I waited." Her explanation was met with a raised eyebrow. Lyanna pressed a hand to the barely visible bulge, stroking it lovingly for a few moments. "An unmarried woman has no place loving a man in a fashion apt to leave evidence. I know that." She breathed through her nose, trying to control her nerves. "I swore I would make no demands of him, and I won't. But it is my choice to keep this part of him." If she could not have Rhaegar, at the very least, the tiny human growing inside of her she could love and dote upon. "I am only sorry to have shamed you, father."_

_"Shamed me?" Rickard repeated, taking one of her hands in his. He rubbed his thumb across the soft skin. "Not in a thousand years. I have raised you to be a good woman, Lyanna, and I know that my faith in you is not misplaced. You could never shame me, for there is no shame in love." Granted, he would have wished she'd fallen in love with a man free to love her back openly. That was what Lyanna read in his eyes. Her shoulders lost their stiffness. "So long as it is your choice, you have my full support; this family's full support."_

_She could no longer hold back her tears. The drops rolled down her cheeks, leaving wet trails behind. It was her father who brushed them away lovingly. He held Lyanna in his arms, like he used to do when she was a child. And just like her child self would have done, Lyanna burrowed deeper into his warmth and released her anguish. Hers was a tale with a bittersweet ending. She was not the princess who married her prince and lived happily ever after. She was Lyanna Stark, Lyanna who had loved and who had been loved in return. Whatever else would come, she could not bring herself to regret what had passed._

_Outside a soft drizzle beat against the windows, playing a tune both strange and comforting. Lyanna willed herself to cry no more. She wiped her eyes and held her head up high. "I will not give my child away, father. Never," she declared fiercely._

_"Of course not," Rickard agreed. "I would dearly like to raise my grandson or granddaughter."_

 

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

 

_For the past hour, Lyanna had been carefully penning a series of letters. Most of them were addressed to various acquaintances and were just long enough to excuse herself and her father from whatever invitation they had previously accepted, citing a family emergency as the cause. It had been agreed between father and daughter that it would be best to leave King's Landing for their estate at Winterfell. The sooner, the better, Lyanna considered, glancing down her still-flat front._

_She had yet to show, but as the pregnancy advanced, doubtlessly she would grow in girth and people were unlikely to believe it was because she ate too many lemon cakes. Her father had gone to purchase tickets not too long ago and she was to wait for him. They would leave early on the morrow, barring the possibility of something stopping them. As it was, Lyanna could think of nothing of the nature. She sighed and singed her name at the end of yet another of those dreadful letters. Normally, she was a very patient and organised writer. The unease with which she treated the task appointed to her was a surprise, and not a welcomed one by any means._

_There was one last latter she was supposed to write. And that one, Lyanna thought of as an impossible project. It was to be an explanation to Rhaegar. Of course, her purpose was not to ask for his help, or for companionship. She simply meant for him to know, because it was the decent thing to do. At first she hadn't wanted to. Her father and she had rowed over it for half a day before she decided what course to take. Lyanna had meant to simply end her liaison and make her way up north, to Winterfell. She had thought it best not to burden Rhaegar with the knowledge of the child that grew within her._

_Rickard had nearly exploded when she told him that. He had then proceeded to convince her that it was Rhaegar's right to know about the child. Even if he never came to visit, even if he did not say goodbye, it was only fair that he too knew. "It doesn't mean that you ask for anything of his by telling him. But perhaps he may want to give them something anyway. A true man does not run from his responsibilities." Lyanna had taken those words to heart. She did not know how Rhaegar would react to her letter, but she decided to write it anyway._

_Between making that decision and actually committing the words to paper stood a wall of fear and inadequacy. She had made more than ten failed attempts to begin the letter, but as soon as her writing instrument loomed over the pristine paper all appropriate words fled her mind and she found herself wanting to beg him to come with her, to run away together. But that would ruin not only them, but Rhaegar's family and her family too. Love was selfish, Lyanna recognised; it wanted everything, not merely a tiny corner. The young woman took a calming breath and put away the papers for the moment. She could write the letter later._

_Pella entered the room with a hurried step. "Miss. there is a man who insists to speak to you. Are you at home, or should I send him on his way?"_

_"It would be bad manners to send him away if he expressed a desire in speaking with me." Lyanna stood to her feet and walked to the window. "Just make sure there is someone close by as soon as he enters this room."_

_At first Lyanna had been sure the maid had made a muddle of the man's wishes. Surely it was one of her father's acquaintances, an interview her father had forgotten about. It was not uncommon for Rickard Stark. A distraction could prove useful, after all._

_A good-looking man stepped inside the parlour. However the disdain on his face put Lyanna on her guard almost immediately. This was no acquaintance of her father moreover. She was suddenly glad she had though to have someone at the door. It stood wide open, of course. But it paid to be prepared._

_"Are you Miss Lyanna Stark?" he asked, eyeing her up and down. Her face went red at the breach of etiquette. He hadn't even had the decency to introduce himself._

_"I am. And who might you be, ser?" she questioned, striving to keep her manner calm._

_"You do not know who I am?" He laughed softly, but Lyanna guessed that he found nothing amusing. "One would think that you would have had the decency to at least ask about the family of the woman you have been shaming with your behaviour."_

_"You are related to Elia Martell, then." It hadn't been a question. Looking at him and knowing what she knew, Lyanna could indeed make out the resemblance._

_"A bright one, aren't you? For the sake of propriety, I am forced to give my name. I am Oberyn Martell." He did not accompany the introduction with a customary bow or even a shake of hands. The man sat down, his eyes trained on her. Lyanna followed his example._

_They regarded each other in silence for a few moments. "Are you here to warn me away?" she asked at a long last._

_He smiled a cruel, thin smile. "I am here to tell you that my good-brother will no longer see you, Miss Stark." He leaned in slightly. "You were a mistake he deeply regrets. Rhaegar is a good man who erred this once. But he has seen the light finally."_

_"Is that why he did not come himself? Because he is ashamed?" Her heart twisted painfully. Lyanna clenched her teeth._

_"Indeed," Oberyn confirmed. He held out an envelope. "I do not know what he promised you, Miss Stark. But whatever it is, his attention is given elsewhere. I hope this will satisfy you though."_

_Eyes round as saucers at the insult, Lyanna stood to her feet. "Please leave right this instant." She eyes the envelope with thinly veiled horror when Oberyn made to put it on her table. "And take that bloody thing with you, ser."_

_She still had some dignity left. Lyanna watched him walk away, the envelope back in his pocket._

_A strangled cry left her lips._

 

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

 

_On the day she left King's Landing Cersei had given her a knowing look and had hugged her. Lyanna had not disclosed to her the reason of her leaving, but she was fairly sure Cersei suspected it – and was quite right in her suspicions. That aside, Lyanna had had a couple of letters from the woman these past few months and while she found that she sometimes missed the company, it was certainly better that she had not unburdened herself to Cersei._

_The newest letter detailed a very nice party Cersei had attended with her latest lover. Apparently, Robert had left her for a trip on the old continent and Cersei had consoled herself with a young man who was unknown to Lyanna. Such details were not of great import however. At the party she had mentioned in her letter, Cersei came across none other than Rhaegar Targaryen._

_The sudden appearance of his name before her eyes almost made Lyanna flinch. She had not forgotten, even for a moment, the last time she had heard his name. Pushing the memory to the back of her mind, Lyanna continued reading, hunting for any detail, despite knowing she would only cause herself pain. Believing that he was perfectly happy without her wounded her. But knowing certainly that his life flowed smoothly in her absence would be a blow she might not recover from._

_Surprisingly enough, though, Cersei painted a bleak picture of a man she had once termed as handsome. Apparently the father of a baby son, Rhaegar was more miserable than she had ever seen him. Lyanna had to wonder just how miserable Cersei had ever seen Rhaegar. She sighed and read on. It seemed that some problems had arisen in the man's life. His father's business had recently taken quite a blow and apparently his parents were considering a divorce. It was a delicious scandal as far as Cersei was concerned and she did not hold back even a detail. She thought to delight her friend and help her keep up with society. The thought counted, at least, or so the young woman considered at that point._

_There was no delight to be found in Rhaegar's downfall. He had been callous and mean, and his actions had cut deeper than he would ever know, but even so, to find out that he had problems did not make joy bloom within Lyanna's breast. Nor did it lessen her pain. In fact, it only added to the ache until it became quite unbearable._

_Another might have found delight in such news, but Lyanna had never really considered the misfortunes of others something to grin at and be happy about. She would venture to say it lacked empathy to think so._

_Of course the other piece of news had shaken her as well, though at another level. He had another child with his wife. A boy, Cersei had said. While Lyanna had known fully well that it was his duty to his wife to share her bed, she had hoped – quite foolishly and meanly, perhaps – that nothing would come of it. She had hoped that one child would satisfy his wife._

_A hand came to her mouth to muffle the broken sobs which came unexpectedly. The gods were punishing her. That must have been it. They were giving her the just deserts she had been working towards by encouraging the attention and engaging the affection of a man who could never be hers. And not for the first time, Lyanna sat in front of one of the large windows wondering if she would ever recover, if she would ever stop feeling like her heart had been torn out._

_"Are you well, Lya?" Catelyn asked gently, swaying her newborn son. "Can I get you anything? You look rather pale." The child fussed in her arms, small hands flailing about. Lyanna took a moment to read the worry on her good-sister's face._

_"Oh no, Cat. I am fine." She added a small smile for her benefit. "I have had some worrisome news, but I am sure everything will sort itself out." She was a good woman, Brandon's wife and Lyanna admired her greatly, but she could not bring herself to share the details of her affair with anyone. "Perhaps I should lie down, I am feeling strangely tired," she added after a few moments of silent deliberation._

_After placing Robb in his crib, Catelyn moved to help Lyanna to her feet. "It won't be long now and you shall hold your own child close."_

_"I certainly hope so," Lyanna laughed weakly. She had not known how exhausting it would be to carry a child. Yet it felt exhilarating at the same time. She loved the tiny human growing inside of her; she loved her child with all her heart. The babe within her gave her strength when she thought she had none left. "But I'm sacred, to tell you the truth. One hears such stories."_

_"Life is scary," Catelyn agreed as they passed into the hall, heading for one of the private rooms. "I was scared as well. But it all turned out fine. The best you can do is have faith."_

_"I keep wondering, what if something happens to my child? What will I do then?" Lowering herself to sit on the edge of the bed, Lyanna regarded Catelyn with undisguised worry._

_"Worry is the burden of all mother. It doesn't really pass." She sat down next to Lyanna. "But, you know, the moment when they put your child in your arms, everything in the world is right. It is just you and your babe. You can feel the child there, you can feel the weight and hear him and see him. And he is yours, like no one before him. He will need you, he will count on you and he will love you unconditionally."_

_Fascination shone in Lyanna's eyes at those words. She wanted that, what Catelyn had described. Undoubtedly, her good-sister spoke of her son, of little Robb with wide blue eyes and copper locks. Lyanna would hold her own child soon, a small human being to be hers, a tiny person depending on her and her love._

_It was daunting, frightening, and everything she wanted at the moment, Lyanna realised as Catelyn exited the room, closing the door in her wake with a soft sound._

 

 

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

 

Covering her distress to the best of her abilities, Lyanna arranged the last details of the menu with Cook. There were not to be many guests. It would be a typical Stark gathering. Catelyn would come with the children, presumably without Brandon who was enjoying the hospitality of one of his many mistresses. She would be joined by Lyanna's own father. And possibly they were to expect Edmure Tully as well. Eddard was still on the old continent, no doubt buried in a mountain of papers at the embassy. Benjen would likely not have been able to pull out of his duties in order to join them.

"Perhaps a few more lemon cakes. Little Sansa does seem to enjoy them so," she spoke softly to Cook who nodded, her plump cheeks reddening in pleasure at being reminded just how much that particular child enjoyed her skills. Lyanna laughed softly. "That should be all."

"Don't you worry Miss, those two won't sneak in my kitchen anytime soon," Cook murmured. Lyanna had no doubt that the woman meant to keep both Jon and Lynarra away from the sweets she had made, especially away from the cake. "They will be very surprised."

"And very grateful," Lyanna commented lightly. She withdrew from the kitchen and walked back into the main halls, just in time to see the door being opened to admit in Catelyn and her veritable gaggle of mischief-makers. A chorus of greetings sounded out, accompanying by a small trampling of feet as the little heard of children hurried to hug her, despite Catelyn's warning that they behave.

Children, Lyanna had learned, behaved only when it befitted them. She smiled indulgently and kissed the top of Robb's head, then Sansa's cheeks. She accepted a small bunch of wildflowers from a blushing Bran and ruffled Arya's hair, carefully avoiding any comment on the mud stains on the hem of the girl's dress. The youngest of them all was baby Rickon who babbled incoherently up at her and squealed in delight when Lyanna picked him up in her arms.

"Hello everyone," she greeted them cheerfully as Catelyn approached and they exchanged perfunctory kisses. "Jon and Lynarra are outside, playing. You may join them if you wish. I think your mamma and I would be better served sitting on the terrace and keeping an eye on you." She winked at them.

Catelyn took Rickon back in her arms. Lyanna gave her a sympathetic glance. "I swear, I haven't ever been so happy for a journey to be over," her good-sister exclaimed, bouncing her son lightly. "I thought I might lose my mind."

"Were they an absolute terror?" Lyanna asked, without an ounce of surprise. Children usually were spirited creatures. Catelyn was bound to have more than her fair share of spiritedness with five children to look after.

"Even Sansa," the redhead sighed, prompting laughter to escape the brunette's lips. "I thought growing up would calm them."

If only that were true. Lyanna led the way to the terrace and invited Catelyn to have a seat. "Well, it's not over at any rate. Here, Rickon, have some apple juice."

Looking around with thinly veiled curiosity, Catelyn allowed a smile to make its way to her face. "You seem to have had no problem in accommodating yourself to the new house."

"The children like it," Lyanna confessed. "And I do too, now that I have grown accustomed to it. Mind you, I still miss the old manor sometimes." Her father had installed her on an estate not too far from the Winterfell manor; if fact they were neighbours of a sort, but she still missed the home of her girlhood. "How was Barrowtown?"

Her guest wrinkled her nose and Lyanna did not need any other information to put the pieces together. Still, Catelyn obliged her with a short account of her visit there. "I do wish you had joined us. I was dreadfully lonely."

Guilt wiggled inside of Lyanna momentarily. She knew about Brandon's lack on interest in his wife, yet she had never intervened between the two of them. She sighed softly and offered a sad smile to her good-sister. "I would have, only Lynarra had just come down with a cold and I thought it better to keep her in."

"I suppose she demanded stories and such, as always." Catelyn laughed. She allowed Rickon to crawl off her lap and into the grass, where Sansa took him by the hand. "Sansa does the same. And now I cannot escape until I have read them a story in front of the fire. I have no idea where I shall find new stories now that we have finished that delightful book you gave us."

Completely in agreement, Lyanna nodded along with Catelyn's words. "I have found that most books will do. I suggest Robin Hood, if you haven't tried it yet. Or even Alice in Wonderland."

"You would have to lend them to me," Catelyn said. She then proceeded to scold Robb for having pushed Lynarra as they raced across the lawn. "These boys."

"Ah, don't worry. Lynarra is happy to give as good as she gets. Let the children play." Catelyn looked away from the little ones. "You know you are always welcome to take whatever you need from my book collection."

It had been a long-standing practice between the two mothers to exchange knowledge about their children. It helped that said children shared similar tastes. Mothering had never been particularly easy, but some of the burden could be shared, especially in the absence of concerned and responsible father-figures. And Lyanna could have killed Brandon for the way he acted, for the fact that he deliberately stayed away from his family.

"Here are my beloved daughters," Rickard's voice boomed from behind them, making both women turn. The children's grandfather stepped outside into the sunlight, holding in his arms wrapped parcels and boxes.

The children greeted him loudly and jumped on him like a pack of hungry wolves. The prey was, of course, those lovely looking presents.

"Now, now, settle down," Lyanna told them, as Catelyn pulled back Jon and Robb, "Give your poor grandfather a chance to sit down."

"Don't go making me feel old, daughter," Rickard chided her over a chuckle. "Come and see what I have brought you all."

If there was one thing Lyanna had learned in all her years of being a mother, that was that her children would only enjoy gathering together from time to time and keeping each other company if it was for more than just a few hours. That being the case, she raised no protest when Brandon finally appeared from wherever he had been and claimed that he would take them all to his estate where more surprises waited for them. Rickard had simply winked at his daughter as the children were being readied.

"Let them have their fun, and you may have yours," her father said softly, patting her hand gently.

"Do you know what this surprise of Brandon's is?" she asked in return.

"I am not at liberty to say," Rickard answered with a smile. He kissed her goodbye and the children did the same.

At least she would not need to worry about them, knowing that they were in the safe keeping of their uncle, aunt and grandfather. Lynarra hugged her long and hard and Jon pressed himself against her side. "I shall expect the both of you back by tomorrow noon. Are we understood?" She had used her sternest voice which never failed to produce a ripple of amusement where her children were concerned.

"We solemnly swear." Brandon joked, being the last left to say bid her goodbye. "I suggest you use the time to catch up on your sleep."

Ignoring his jape, Lyanna saw all her guests to their vehicles and waved them off. She returned to the now empty house and climbed up the stairs, fully intending to make good use of her brother's advice. While she adored Lynarra and Jon with every fibre of her being, a little bit of solitude every now and again was not something to be scoffed at.

She had not managed to clear half the steps when she heard the doorbell ring, announcing that a visitor had arrived. Shaking her head in wonder, Lyanna sighed and clambered down the stairs, directing Talla, one of the maids, with a look. The young woman hurried across the hall into the receiving antechamber as the door was being opened. It was perhaps one of the village children. Talla would know what to tell them.

Yet the maid came back to her employer with a confused look on her face. "There is a Mr. Targaryen to see you, Miss," she innocently announced. "Shall I direct him to the parlour or are you not in?"

"Never mind, Talla. See to your other duties and I will see to our guest," Lyanna said weakly. She did not want to see him. A wave of shame crashed into her. How could she possibly face him after everything? After all these years?

Her guilt turned into fear and the fear became something else entirely. She found the courage to face him. There was little choice afforded to her in that. Stepping to where she knew Talla had left her guest, Lyanna could only produce a short gasp when she saw him.

Rhaegar's look mirrored her own. His face was not quite as she remembered it. There were lines across his skin that hadn't been there before and his eyes were sadder. But he gazed at her with wonder, as if he had been waiting to see her again. As if he hadn't been the one to humiliate her.

"Why are you here?" she found herself asking, eyes filling with tears. Despite her intention to keep away, her legs carried her closer and closer to him. She was heading towards another disaster, her mind warned; but her heart tugged towards a different path. "What more could you possibly want from me?"

He caught her hand and pulled her in his arms, in spite of the fact that Lyanna tried to escape his hold. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." The apology rang in her ears though he had spoken barely above a whisper.

"I don't care," she managed to ground out. "After what you did, how dare you appear before me?" Instead of holding the anger she had wanted the words to hold, they were an anguished cry. "I am not a toy to be picked up and discarded at a whim. And you have–"

"I never did throw you away. You abandoned me." Holding her firmly by the arms, Rhaegar pushed her back to stare in her eyes. "I suppose you are speaking of my good-brother's visit. It was not of my doing. He acted on his own. I never had any intention of–"

"How did he know?" Lyanna asked. "Surely, you didn't tell him." Her tone was mocking.

The man sighed. "He followed me. Lyanna," he said her name in such a way that her very heart twisted, "I was going to divorce her. Elia must have had her suspicions, and she shared those with Oberyn as soon as I told her of my intentions."

The world was spinning. Lyanna clutched Rhaegar tightly, trying to keep to her feet. "A divorce?" She leaned against him. "I never asked, you know I never did." Her protests were lost in his shoulder as she was once more wrapped in a strong embrace.

"I know, but I couldn't stay with her any longer. I just couldn't." He pressed a soft kiss to her hairline and move downwards to her eye and cheeks and finally to her lips. "Had I known, I would have waited to speak with you. But Elia refused to sign the papers and then you were gone and all I knew was that you never wanted to see me again."

Enraged, Lyanna pushed against him to release her. "Who said that?" She gave him an angry look. "And why would you believe that?"

"Your father." His confession stunned her. Lyanna had indeed told her father she never wanted to see Rhaegar again. But those had been angry words, spoken in haste.

"You should have asked me." Her fingers twined through his.

"I wrote to you. Every day." He shook his head. "All the letters were returned unopened." Her eyes denied having received any letter. "Perhaps they though they were protecting you."

"Do you–" she began, unsure.

"Oberyn told me everything in the end." He held up a hand allowing her to inspect the bruised knuckles. "Can I see them?"

"Only if you're willing to travel," she laughed.

"Where?" his question followed.

"At Brandon's estate. It's not far." A knot formed in her throat.

"Then let us go." Rhaegar offered her his hand.

They left together.

         

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
